


Commission - Roxanne: A Messy Revelation

by Fenton_Tarleton



Category: A Goofy Movie (1995)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Consensual Infidelity, Cuckolding, Cunnilingus, F/M, Farting, Filth, Fucked Silly, Humiliation, Infidelity, Marathon Sex, Oral Sex, Rimming, Ruination, Small Penis, Sweat, Vaginal Sex, musk, smega, spit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:54:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22532044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fenton_Tarleton/pseuds/Fenton_Tarleton
Summary: Roxanne and Max have had a wonderful summer together following that whole Powerline thing. She's been a bit busy lately, but he's finally getting to spend some quality time with her over at his place while his dad is out. While she goes to freshen up, he fires up the tape she left behind and his world comes crumbling down.Commissioner wishes to remain Anonymous
Relationships: Peg Pete/Pete (Disney Classic), Peg Pete/Roxanne, Roxanne/Pete (Disney Classic)
Kudos: 8





	Commission - Roxanne: A Messy Revelation

It had been a great summer for Max. Pulling off that stunt with his dad at the Powerline concert had rocketed his popularity into the stratosphere to start. Plus, it was nice having bridged that gap between them that he hadn't even realized was there. And, of course, most importantly of all, even despite coming clean about the lie that had sparked the whole thing in the first place, he was now walking up his front porch to a house he had to himself for the rest of the night hand in hand with Roxanne.

As he placed the key into the door he couldn't help but turn to look at her, keenly aware of that dopey grin creeping onto his face that always seemed to herald her own blushing, bashful smile. And like a reflexive response to the shared moment of awkwardness she took a tiny step forward, placing an adorable, chaste kiss on his cheek. There wasn't a luckier man in the world, and he knew it.

“So,” she began, hugging to her chest a backpack she'd brought along with her and shifting her upper body side to side ever so slightly causing a plastic clatter to rise from inside the bag. “Are we going in, or were you planing on standing out here staring all night?” Her hand went up to her hair, pushing it back from over her eye to behind her ear, the moment of verbal boldness triggering the nervous little tick. Her head tilted to the ground and her blushing intensified. “Not that that I'm not, ya know, totally flattered.”

Max, for his part, held his slack jawed gaze on her just a little longer, not realizing until her gentle prodding that he'd zoned out trying to figure out how things had gone so very very right for him.

“Ah! Right, right. Sorry!” He snapped back to attention, fumbling his keys for a bit. Re-locking the door before unlocking it again and finally opening the way inside. With a feigned smoothness he didn't feel, he stepped aside, holding the door for her as he invited her inside.

It wasn't the first time she'd been over this summer, though his dad had almost always been there. This was only the second time they'd been alone together, the first time being four or so weeks ago. In fact, that was the last time she'd been over to his place at all.

The two teens headed upstairs to Max's room, Max grabbing the remote and turning on his TV. The two of them had planned to spend the night watching some movies that Roxanne had brought over, though as Max turned around he found her sitting on the edge of his bed, resting her head on her knees. The barest hint of lacy pink visible just under her skirt.

The Goof boy gulped, recalling four weeks ago when they'd been alone. When she'd sidled up to him good and close. Pressed her body against his. When her hand had wandered down his shirt to rest on impressive swell in the front of his jeans. When he'd panicked and she smiled and told him it was fine. That she was glad he wanted to take things slow.

He didn't regret it. Mostly.

Roxanne smiled, hopping off the bed and reaching into her bag, pulling out an unmarked VHS. Her dad ordered a lot of pay-per-view so she always had stacks of recorded material from all kinds of events. She pushed the tape into Max's chest.

“I'll be back right back, Max, but go ahead and get that one started. I don't need to see the beginning. I've already watched it a few times.” She gave him another kiss, this one planted on the end of his snout before dashing off, not even remembering to put down her bag.

Once he emerged from his smooch-induced stupor, Max did what he was told, pushing the tape into the player and settling in to watch.

\---

It had been a pretty alright summer for Roxanne. Sure, the boy she liked had started it out by lying to her, but his heart was in the right place. Besides, she couldn't help feeling that the lengths he'd go to just to impress her were at least a little heartwarming. And she'd been having a great time with him ever since he'd come back. But...

Well she'd always had certain expectations of Max. Of boys in general. And, the lying aside, Max had been nothing if not a perfect gentleman and an attentive boyfriend but she couldn't help feeling there was something more she wanted out of him. Something beyond “sweet, loving, and attentive.” Something she couldn't quite put her finger on, but that she knew she wasn't getting.

She'd given him every opportunity, found excuses to come over. To spend time alone with him in his room. To let his hand wander to places a polite boy, a perfect gentleman, maybe shouldn't be putting their hands. Only for Max to recoil like he'd touched a hot stove. And it wasn't like she could just _tell_ him what she wanted. What to do. She couldn't quite put it into words herself. Sure, she wanted to fuck her boyfriend. And she knew he wanted it too. Not like anyone could miss that heft he carried in the front of his pants, no matter how he may have tried to hide it. But she wanted more than that. She wanted him to _do_ something about it. To make her not just fuck him, but _worship_ him. She wanted him to... It was so hard to figure out. To be a... a...

Lost in thought she only caught only partially realized that something in her peripheral vision had captured her attention, dragging her thoughts away from her current conundrum as her mind began to wander, and her eyes along with it.

She'd never seen the man in person before, though she knew of him through several avenues. When she was younger she'd seen him on commercials on TV advertising for a used car lot. It had been a while since she'd seen those commercials, but after meeting PJ she learned that the used car guy was actually his father.

All of that, of course, was fairly irrelevant in the moment. Only serving to fill in the blanks with recognition as she saw the man pushing a mower around his lawn, keeping the grass good and manicured. Inertia fighting his every move, causing the weight that hung from his body to wobble and sway as he worked up a sweat tending to the chore.

Roxanne felt her face flush, though she wasn't quite sure why. There was nothing particularly provocative about what he was doing. And the man himself, Pete Sr., she recalled, wasn't exactly easy on the eyes. Corpulent and hairy, and reminding her ever so slightly of her own father who, she would never admit, she may have had a small girlish crush on in her younger years.

A warm breath left her parted lips before she managed to close them, sinking her teeth into the fleshy bottom one, signaling for anyone paying attention to the tell tale signs just what it was that she was looking for in a man. Giving her head a little shake, she managed to pull her attention away from the subject of her budding lust and dutifully make her way up to her boyfriend's front door. But not, however, before another set of nearby prying eyes happened to catch sight of the little slut eyeing up what was rightfully hers.

Peg smirked. She knew she'd be seeing a lot more of that girl in the very near future.

\---

Three days. It was three days later when it happened. When Max had handed Roxanne a game cartridge that PJ had left over at his house. He was going to return it himself, but Roxanne, being the sweet, caring girlfriend that she was, volunteered since she was heading past the house anyways. Max had some summer reading he needed to catch up on so she was only too happy to save him some time.

That was what she told herself. That was what she honestly believed in the moment. But that wasn't really the truth.

She didn't understand it, as she walked up the short path to that front door. Why her pulse was accelerating. Why her breathing was growing heavier. Why that warmth had returned to her cheeks. Her cheeks and her...

She raised her hand with a hesitance that had no origin she could explain, one dainty finger pushing in the doorbell sending the sound ringing through the house on the other side of that door..

There was no harm in it really though, was there? These feelings she had begun to experience. Flights of fancy. Nothing more. No more serious than the thoughts she'd had of her own father's body above her. The heat from him engulfing her. Idle notions that crossed her mind when she closed her eyes at night and slipped a finger or two or three down between her legs.

She would never act on it. He was her father. Of course she wouldn't. Of course, Pete wasn't.

He was a father, but he wasn't _her_ father. He wasn't even a husband anymore, according to Max, his wife having taken their daughter and leaving Pete with their son. He was a single father now. He was single now.

It was on this thought that Roxanne found herself eye level with a toned, tan, almost bare midriff set above a pair of broad, bountiful hips clad only in a veil of translucent lingerie and a pair of tight, sodden panties, the tang of the unfamiliar woman's sex hitting the girl's senses like a brick.

Roxanne's jaw dropped as her eyes rose up that tight body seeking out the face to which all those curves belonged. Finally meeting a pair of eyes that looked upon her with what amusement.

Peg Pete stood in the doorway dressed in a negligee made of little more than sheer belief. In her hand, a glass of something dark and red. On her lips, a smile that was even darker.

“I was wondering how long it would be before you wound up on my ex's doorstep, sweetie. Girls like you always come sniffing around before the ink's even dry on the paper work.” She stops a moment, turning to polish off the contents of her glass before diverting her attention back to the little homewrecker at what used to be her front door. “I should know. I _was_ one. But you'll learn, eventually, there's a difference between a good lay and a good husband. No reason to lose one just because they aren't the other.”

Roxanne's surprise was obvious, as was her confusion. Less obvious was the wave of disappointment that was washing over. Her jaw began working before she'd found the words for it to produce. “No, no. No. I just came by... Max sent me to... I just...”

Peg didn't have time for little girl games at her age and she didn't hesitate to reach out and grab the girl by the wrist, dragging her past the threshold of the house and beyond the point of no return, the sound of the door carrying a voluminous permanence as it shut.

“You came here because you liked what you saw. I'm not angry. You know a man when you see one.” She spoke as she walked through the house, Roxanne in tow behind her. Her grip wasn't so strong as for the younger woman to have difficulty escaping. Quite the opposite. If Roxanne wanted to get away she wouldn't have the least bit of trouble. But Roxanne didn't want to get away. She wanted pretense. And excuse. Someone to override her sense of propriety and bring her where she wanted, where she _needed_ to be.

Another door, this time to the master bedroom. One last chance to change course. To avoid the fate that was steadily becoming an inevitability. To remind herself how much she loved Max. How much she wanted...

This.

It was everything she thought it would be. Knew it would be. Dreamed it would be. A black mass of masculinity heaped in a blob upon a bed that strained with his weight. His eyes met his ex-wife's first, assessing what was happening before turning his attention to her. There was a shrewdness, a greed, a hunger there that she'd never witnessed in Max.

“Hhhaa! Hahaha! I didn't know they started deliverin' fresh cunt, Peg.” His laugh was as loud and abrasive as one would have guessed from his looks. And even as he was being served this delicacy practically on a silver platter he refused to inconvenience himself moving his fat ass to get it.

“Make sure you got that camera rollin'. I think we're gonna want ta remember this one.”

It wasn't just the heat of what she could no longer fool herself into believing was anything but raw lust that she was feeling now. Her head was starting to feel light. Foggy. It was getting harder for her to think straight. And the heat was no longer just internal. Crossing into the bedroom felt like stepping into a jungle. The air was heavy and damp and hot. And the smell. Fuck. She could still scent the sex of the woman who'd dragged her into this situation from the front door, but now... Now?

Roxanne let her eyes fall closed, let her body lean forward, her head roll back, and breathed. The first real breath of the rest of her life. She very nearly choked on it. The smell of sweat, and sex, and a masculinity that hadn't seen the business end of a shower head in far too long. Again she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she felt something roll through her entire body. Her muscles tensing, squeezing her eyes shut until, suddenly, a wave of intensely pleasured relief rolled across her. Her eyes opened until they were only half lidded, pupils hidden as her gaze rolled heavenward. Her chin quivering, her breath quavering. All accompanied by the tell tale patter of orgasmic dew falling to freshly shampooed carpet.

She wasn't given a moment to recover from what had just happened to her. To think. To reconsider what she was about to do. Not before she felt a pair of breasts more impressive than the perky mounds she carried press into her back. A pair of arms slip around her waist. A set of fingers push beneath her waistband, over the tuft of red, well-trimmed bush, right against the dripping lips of her teen quim. And then a voice.

“Let me guess,” it said. Those digits knowing exactly what to do as with a young girl's dripping pussy. “You've got a big heap of man all to yourself at home that you've wanted to feel against you. That you wanted to drown you in his sweat and his heat and his stink. But daddy's too good of a man to do that to his little angel. Isn't that right?”

Roxanne was little more than a passenger in her own body at this point. Her eyes had still yet to focus and her hips rolled against those probing fingers, chasing another cum but being kept right on the edge. The shock of filling her lungs with the rank fuckstink enough to jolt her to orgasm once, but like a junkie, now she needed a stronger hit.

All she could manage was a distracted nod of the head while her brain buzzed and her vision slowly sharpened on the heap of male stretched out on the bed before her.

“I know,” the voice of the older woman cooed in her ear. Those fingers drawing themselves from Roxanne's young muff and up along her skin until they came to rest gripping the hem of the girl's shirt, the second hand soon joining it. “I've been there. Some sweet, clean cut boy just isn't gonna cut it for a girl like you. You need something good and dirty. Someone that'll treat you the way you need to be treated. The way daddy never would. Arms up, sweetheart.”

For the briefest of moments, Max came to mind, dredged by the mention of a boy who couldn't give her what she needed. For only a moment, and then he was gone. The furthest thing from her mind. Roxanne didn't put up any resistance as Peg pulled her shirt from her body. Between the man before her, the woman behind her, the funk surrounding her, and the words drilling into her mind, she had no ability to resist. No will to resist. And most, importantly, no desire to.

Pete's eyes bore into her now half-naked form before turning to the mother of his child. “And where did ya find this one?”

“Oh, I caught her admiring the goods out front a couple of days ago. _You're_ just lucky she showed up when she did.”

“ _I'm_ lucky you found someone to do the hard work for ya?” His attention returned to the girl in question. “Well? Waitin' for? An engraved invitation?”

For the first time, Roxanne hesitated. The weight of what was about to happen finally beginning to settle in. She couldn't do this, could she? Not with man she'd never met until minutes ago. She hadn't even gotten _this_ far with...

A nudge forward was all it took for her feet to start moving. Drawing her closer and closer still to that bed. That man propping his upper body against the headboard and practically drooling at the prospect of getting his hands on her. She hadn't even told either of them her name.

He shifted, the first real movement she'd seen out of him, as she drew nearer, turning to sit on the bedside in order to look down at her properly. His legs wide so that as she drew near she stood between them. The heat intensifying to the point she felt her own skin start to glisten and her hair becoming heavier in the humidity. Her lungs burned as the rank foulness of that overly large body really began to make itself known.

She swooned. Peg was right. She needed this.

It dawned on her, only as she stood in his shadow, just how much larger than her he was. And as he reached down, running those thick, sausage fingers over her bare chest, prodding and pinching at her little tits before lifting her bodily from the floor, all thoughts of resistance were extinguished for good.

Pulled up into his lap, she was made to straddle that oversized gut as best she could, feeling it pushed between her thighs, pressed up against her pussy, a sigh escaped her lips. She'd wanted this for so long. Her tiny hands clung to him, feeling it gurgle and rumble beneath her touch as she pulled herself closer. As close as she could manage, before burying her face in the oily, unwashed fur of his chest and inhaling. Her neurons caught fire, tears pouring from her eyes half from the overwhelming musk of this behemoth before her and half from sheer joy. Her hips bucking and grinding against the girth between her thighs. Her tongue leaving her mouth as her brain could summon no thoughts but that of any other contented bitch. She began to lick at the dark fur in front of her.

He tasted no better than he smelled. Like grime, and sweat, and sex and she didn't care. Not one bit. Slowly she dragged her tongue up his chest as she breathed in his reek. Then again. And again. Only stopping when she felt a tug at her hair, the man pulling her face away from his body before tilting it up to look him in the eye.

There was something in that grin of his. Every bad thing she was meant to stay away from. Arrogant. Selfish. Greedy. Not the same, hungry look he gave Peg. No. She knew.

“You get it, don'tcha,” he asked, though he could see it in her eyes. “You ain't no little girly to me. Just a rag for me to make filthy.” His bloated tongue ran across his lips as he explained her place in all of this.

Her only response was to nod her understanding and to open her mouth wide while she allowed him to pull her face towards his. His tongue, long and fat and slimy, sliding over her own and further still. Entering her throat as she was drawn even closer. Practically made to choke on it as, finally, her sweet lips touched against his. It lasted moments before she pulled her head back and pushed it forward again. Acclimating her throat to his presence within it. Showing her appreciation of his attention by fellating whatever he shoved down her throat.

Gripping her by the waist and back, Pete turned them both over, placing the girl beneath his immense weight as he tongue-fucked her throat. Her hands found his arms. Her legs clinched tight around his midsection,

\---

Roxanne was nearly invisible to the camera beneath Pete. Aside from her legs and hands gripping his sides, she'd disappeared entirely.

Max was horrified. For a few moments he'd allowed himself to believe the worst. That this was forced. That Roxanne had been made to do something she would never by the father of his best friend. And he was horrified that, deep down, he would have preferred that to the actual truth. That she had so easily decided to betray him as she did, and with his best friend's father of all people. And worse still, that she was only there because he'd sent her there himself. That he played a roll in his own emotional devastation.

He should turn it off. He knew he should. The point was made. She'd gone behind his back and done something like... like this. And worst of all she'd intentionally made sure he'd see the video of her infidelity. Where was she now? Somewhere laughing at him? His misery? He should find her. He should ask her what was going on. What this meant. If it was supposed to be a confession... or a break up. He knew that he should, if for no other reason than to spare himself some pain. But he couldn't. He was fixated on what was happening on his screen.

And though he wouldn't admit it to himself, his body was more than that. Watching his girlfriend pinned under his neighbor forced him to shift around in his seat on the floor. To find a position that allowed him some comfort and continued to let him further deny some additional uncomfortable truths. To ignore the fact that his arousal was hitting a peak and leave his shaft tucked away in his jeans. Lucky for him baggy was in fashion. It was only the fact that he kept his modesty that prevented him from taking things any further as he continued to watch what was going happening on his tv screen, what had already happened in the house of Pete.

\---

She didn't know how long it had been since she'd been smothered by the weight of the oversized male above her. All she knew was that her body as soaked. Her jeans would reek of his sweat and filth forever, and so, it felt to her, would she. Her mouth tasted of his rancid saliva and stinking breath and her face had been drooled over in his frantic claiming of her throat. And she was, herself, perspiring more than she had ever before there beneath him. Every time he broke from her she panted for air and begged him for more with her eyes. She worked her body against him as best she could, not afraid sullying herself. Finally getting what she didn't know she needed for so very long. And as his hands began to lift his immense weight up and off of her she found herself chasing after.

It was when he rose from her, pulled himself away from her and let time resume in her head, that it all finally hit. Roxanne's fingers and toes clinched, gripping the bedspread as her lower body jerked upwards. Her jaw went rigid and her breath escaped her nose in heavy pants and her throat in moaning whimpers. Even still clad in jeans the darkening patch in her rocking, jerking crotch told the story of the most intense orgasm of her life being ripped from her petite form. And this was only just the start of things.

Exhaustion already graced her features as her head fell to the side, her jaw slackened, and she tried to catch her breath, the most recent climax having exerted every muscle in her body more than they'd ever been previously. Her eyes were dimmed while she built up the strength to resume the night.

Two hands. not his, they were much too small and much too gentle to be his, climbed up the inside of her thighs. One coming to rest on her flooded mound while the other worked the button of her jeans, popping it loose.

“Well someone's gone and made a mess of themselves, haven't they? Come on. Let's get these soggy things off and get a real good look at what we're working with.”

Peg rolled the pair of jeans down Roxanne's hips, the girl having no strength to resist even if she had wanted to. Nor could she help. Still, it didn't take much to strip her down to a pair of pretty pastel pink panties that somehow matched her discarded top as well as the blue jeans in the process of being discarded had. Though, by this point, it was hard to tell what color they were at all. So thoroughly soaked through were they that the two adults could see straight through to the weeping slit below.

They peeled away with ease.

“Well. Would ya look at that?”

It had been a long time since Pete had seen such a pristine pussy. It wasn't as though he were above taking a teen into his home and turning her out, but he'd never even considered doing such a thing to his own daughter. And he'd long ago turned Peg's slit into a proper cunt. But what looked up at the pair now, twitching, leaking, and desperate as it may have been, was something pure and sweet and perfect. They could see it in one another's faces. They were going to enjoy every moment leading up to this girl's defloration. Her conversion into a filth loving whore for their personal enjoyment.

“Please.”

Their attention shifted from the spot between her legs up to her face which had turned to look down her own body towards them. Shakily she lifted a hand and managed to reach between her own legs, resting a pair of fingers on each side of her slit before spreading them, and it, further apart.

“Please.”

Before she could change her mind. Before she had any thoughts on her mind at all beyond having this man who had already so thoroughly staked a claim on her where her boyfriend had just as thoroughly failed to do so take her for real.

“H-haaa! Look at that. Seems like we got a little slut that still hasn't had her fill on our hands. She thinks she can just ask for my cock and get it. Whadda you think? Should I give it to her?”

“Now, Schnookums, you know that dick still belongs to me. And as badly as he clearly wants it, I don't think she's _earned_ the right to have it just yet.”

Roxanne could only look on at the smiles on the faces of the two adults as they loomed over her naked body, planning just what they'd make her do to earn her well deserved fuck.

\---

Roxanne lowered her face to Pete's, pressing her lips into his bulbous lower lip. This time he didn't kiss back as she offered kiss after kiss along that thick line. Parting her teeth every now and then to gently chew and suck at it before moving lower. Every pull away marking her features with viscous ribbons of his spit.

The bloated male laid with his back propped against the headboard of his bed as he allowed the girl to show her affection, her appreciation, towards him. Allowing her to ease into it before moving on.

And move she did, crawling lower down his mountainous body to plant kisses against his blubbery, stubbled chin. Taking as much of it into her maw as she could and running her tongue along it. Feeling the prickly hair against the sensitive flesh.

Lower still and she peppered his neck with the same adoration. He could feel the way her body quivered and trembled against him as she moved lower. He could see the way her eyes remained gently closed as she savored every touch of her flesh to his. That nose twitching and flaring to take in every scent and drive her down to even further levels of depravity.

Even glistening with her own sweat and his, her hair, drained of its life and bounce from the humidity, having collapsed to cover the right side of her face, she was a sight to behold.

She found herself at his chest once more, where she'd first begun to explore him. Her tongue scraping along the rough fur there as she guided herself to a new target. All the while she'd found something to do with her hands, massaging and kneading at the rotund belly of her older paramour. Giving it the attention such heft deserved. Showering the love she would never be able to give her own father upon this more than adequate stand in.

“Good girl,” came Peg's voice from just off camera. The sloppy, wet noises joining the ones coming from Roxanne a clear indication of what she was up to. “Show us how much you need it.”

The sound of suction blocked by a lardy clog as Roxanne took as much of Pete's flabby man breast into her mouth as she could and sucked it for all she was worth. Slurping at the fat deposit while sucking like she expected something from it. Her face angled lower, releasing his nipple and shunting her muzzle beneath the heavy flesh flap where she found exactly what she'd hoped in that fold. A bitter, stomach churning taste as her tongue cleaned him where he'd not bothered in a long time. Above her she could hear a long, growling moan, but she wasn't distracted from her work.

Dragging her tongue from one side of his chest to the other, she repeated the process in reverse on his other mass of pectoral fat.

Satisfied, she traveled lower still, finding herself facing that bulging, burbling gut she had until now been so lovingly caressing. The camera couldn't see it, but there was a wild hunger in her eye. The memory of how her body had been so wracked with bliss the last time she'd just allowed herself to indulge in that masculine musk and she couldn't help but shove that cute little nose in deep. Sinking her face into his fat and breathing it all in. It was like electricity firing directly into her nervous system. Driving her body insane. Already, however, she was beginning to adjust. Beginning to acclimate to the scent of weeks old sweat, and dirt, and cum.

Still, she felt it building. Felt the tremor of an orgasm roll over her body. Smaller than the last two, but still so much better than anything she'd ever been able to give herself. She could barely keep her composure, her nose and tongue descending until an entirely different kind of tremor rocked her body. One of revulsion at the bitter, foul taste, worse than anything to this point, graced her taste buds and she realized where she was. French kissing Pete's belly button.

It was too much. A line too far for her. An accident. For a brief moment the fog that had been clouding her thoughts began to clear ever so slightly. But just as she was about to pull away, a heavy hand found its way to the back of her head. Her eyes rose to find Pete's waiting for her. And she remembered why she was subjecting herself to all of this.

“Mmh,” she moaned and Pete felt that peculiar sensation of something digging deep in his navel. “Mmnf,.Fuck,” came her voice between the smacking of her lips as she treated Pete's belly button to a make out the likes of which she hadn't rewarded even Max. “Ahh. Love you,” she continued, Pete releasing her head as she settled into his desires.

Panting and puffing off camera signaled that Peg had managed to get her first nut of the evening watching a teenage girl treat her ex's navel and, after briefly basking, was ready to re-join the fun.

Roxanne was surprised when she felt a hand in her hair and another braced against her back. Even more surprised when she was jerked back from her ministrations at Pete's gut and onto her knees in front of him. He looked immensely amused. She could imagine Peg, behind her, looking much the same. She didn't know what was about to happen, but she was ready for whatever it was.

Pete raised his arm, a dark smile across his features, and she understood. She would have moved forward voluntarily, but she wasn't given the option. Instead, Peg guided her by the head into that warm, wet, hairy trench in the fold of her husband's arm. Roxanne felt the inside of her nostrils practically singed by the pungent stench coming from where she was headed. Oddly enough, however, it was the purest thing she'd smelled all night. Just as unclean as anywhere else on the fat fuck, but this was the unadulterated scent of a man. This was the kind of thing she was truly after. Tongue unfurled, mouth agape, eyes pointed to the sky, she took in a hefty clump of hair and began to suck it clean of its juices. At the same time, Peg released the girl's hair while Pete lowered his arm, trapping her.

She didn't know how long she spent there grinding and sucking. All she knew was that her fingers found their way down to her clit and she'd been working the little bean, spilling her girl juices on the already stained sheets the entire time.

Even once Pete raised his flabby arm to free her, Roxanne instead braced herself against him in order to burrow her nose even deeper, snuffling and snorting up more of that musk into her lungs. Using it to burn away what few inhibitions she had left as it fried her brain. Until, at last, she realized she was free.

Roxanne settled back on her heels, though she couldn't pry her own digits free from her sopping slit even as she looked up pleadingly at the two adults using her body as a sex toy. Surely, by now, she'd earned what she was after. The looks on their faces told her no. But of course she wasn't. Somewhere in the back of her mind she already knew that. Already knew what was to come.

Pete, for the first time that evening, rose to his feet, standing to the side of the bed, back facing Roxanne. For the first time since the day she first laid eyes on him, she was able to admire his full form, at least from behind. The way his fat sagged off his frame, concealing any definition he may or may not have had beneath. But she didn't have very much time at all to get her fill. She still had more to do. Stretching out on the bed she found herself now in perfect position to give him just what he wanted.

Her dainty palms reached out, grasping the sides of his two titanic cheeks, using them to pull herself closer before pulling them apart and finding just what it was she was looking for. There was no hesitance left inside of her now. Her body already streaked and stained with dirt and grime from his. Smelling of her own sweat and lust and as well as carrying the scent of this man before her. What was another debasement? Her pussy ached to be filled by this man. Her soul burned to be fulfilled by him. She needed it more than she'd ever needed anything before. And so, without so much as a pause, her tongue found its way to Pete's asshole.

“Noisy little slut, isn't she,” Peg asked. Roxanne had taken to her task with gusto, slurping and prodding that pucker. Working it just as she had his navel, but with even more enthusiasm. Long, slow laps with the full broadness of her oral muscle before swabbing the rim with just the tip before sliding it in and savoring the earthy bitterness to be found. Getting in good and deep to press her lips against it in a passionate kiss. Shifting between these tactics seemingly at random to provide the most pleasure to her partner she could manage.

“She ain't the only one,” Pete chuckled in response, lifting his gut and letting the camera have a lensful of his “glory.” That sack dangling between his legs was a prize to be sure. Fat and swollen as the rest of him, covered in coarse hair and pulsing nearly so powerfully that it could be heard. But the real treasure that Roxanne had been seeking was above and, finally, visible. And it was certainly a shock to say the least.

To be sure, had his frame been a slimmer one, it may have appeared more mighty, but what Pete was packing was barely three inches in length. Just enough to get the job done, but only just so. And its condition? Appalling. The skin was dark and leathery as though from wear, but only where it was otherwise unblemished. Down its length in unevenly distributed spacing were intense, red boils. Surely the man carried some sort of disease. Worse yet, the foreskin that covered the head seemed unevenly distended and, as he rolled it back with his thumb, it became apparent why. Curds of dick cheese littered the head of his undersized tool.

But that was the dick that had given Mrs. Peg Pete two children. And if she hadn't been juicing all night, just the sight of it would be enough to get her wet.

Peg stopped in front of the camera, shedding, first, her negligee before hooking her fingers into her panties and slowly drawing them down her legs. Not content to merely step out of them, Peg leaned forward, folding herself in half to bring them all the way to the ground, in the process giving the camera a good, long look at her own cunt.

To say it was different from Roxanne's would be an understatement. The older woman's lower lips had taken on a dark hue and what was once a thin pink line was now a perpetually parted crevasse. To be fair, that could certainly be attributed to the children she'd given Pete. Less so the way her juices spilled from her not in streams, but in viscous, clouded, syrupy ropes.

The older woman turned her head towards the camera and gave it a smile before joining her husband and their plaything and lowering herself in a wide spreading squat, balanced on the balls of her feet. She inhaled deeply, breathing in the diseased sex stink of her partner before rolling her own tongue out for his use.

Pete rested one hand on his former wife's head, another on the girl behind him. The second he applied a firmer grip to, getting her good and intimate with his backside. His stomach had been bubbling the entire night. Even she had noticed it, but she hadn't given it much thought. Now, however, she did. She understood what was about to happen.

“Mmm,” she moaned. No resistance. No hesitance. She wanted him so badly. And that meant everything he was willing to give her. She fastened her lips around that rear vent.

* _ **Pffluuurrrrrrt***_

\---

Max brought his palms up to his mouth as he felt his stomach turn at what he'd just witnessed. At what Roxanne had been subjected to. What she'd been _willing_ to subject _herself_ to. How could she humiliate herself like that? To degrade herself to the point of happily sucking the gas out of man more than twice her age. What could she possibly want so badly from Pete that she wasn't getting from him?

His stomach clenched and he found himself heaving, just barely managing to avoid losing his lunch as, on screen, Roxanne made a show of continuing to swab ass even as she was bombarded with hot digestive winds strong enough to muss her hair with its force and rank enough to peel paint. He recalled that, recently, their kisses had grown far less cute and chaste and far more adult. She had been the one to initiate the change in the state of their relationship, but he certainly wasn't going to complain. But now, seeing this. Seeing what else that tongue she'd been using to swap spit with him had been getting up to? He was horrified. Revolted. And the first time she'd done had been... Had been as an apology to him for arriving late. She'd looked a mess, though it wasn't the first time she'd come over looking disheveled, and told him it was some after school thing. She apologized. They'd kissed. She'd slipped him some tongue. He was too distracted to think about how she tasted at the time, but now he realized where she'd really come from. And what she'd most likely been up to while she was there.

Streamer after streamer of girl cum squirted from Roxanne's honey pot as she serviced Pete and happily huffed his flatulence and every part of Max screamed for him to just turn the damn thing off. To save at least some of his dignity. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. He'd already gotten this far. He needed to see things through for his own edification if for no other reason.

Besides, by this point his dignity was long gone. Max had always been rather gifted where it counted, but now, unfortunately, that gift was a curse. Eleven inches of premium Goof now jutted from his lap while he watched his girlfriend cheat on him in the most disgusting of ways. His body responding to what he watched, even as he himself refused the urges it demanded he address. It was bad enough he found this so arousing. He wasn't about to jerk it to his girlfriend eating his neighbor's ass.

Of course not.

\---

Once more, Roxanne had lost track of time. Her body had shifted lower now, tongue cleaning Pete's disastrous taint while her nose rested directly against his pucker, breathing his stink directly into her lungs. Burning that putrid foulness into her brain. Her face was a mess, covered in her own drool and the tears that had been forced from her eyes from the ordeal she'd happily suffered through. Her hair was wild, much of it plastered to her features while the rest was a disheveled rat's nest. She was stained from the waist up with the grease and grime that had rubbed off of Pete and onto her, so much more visible to an outside observer on her lighter fur. She looked every bit the jizz rag she was being made into, except, of course, for the most crucial.

At last, Pete released her, stepping away from the bed and allowing her to collapse in a gasping heap. The stale, musky air of lukewarm sex a welcome reprieve to her lungs compared to what she'd been breathing in to this point. But Roxanne herself wasn't quite there. Her eyes were glassy and dim and a half-cocked smile was painted across her face. She was conscious, but only just.

At last she had earned her reward.

Peg rose from her squat, wiping away the prejizz and scum left by her ex-husband that she hadn't already swallowed down, and walked around to the other side of the bed. At the same time, Pete flipped the girl backside down, already knowing what Peg intended in that way that years of marriage and even longer as partners in degenerate fucking allowed for.

“Look at her,” she said, leaning over the bed and grabbing hold of Roxanne's ankles. She spread them wide. Wider. Exposing that fresh snatch for the world, most especially her, to see. She leaned in close, and shamelessly whiffed the girl's young slit. “It' really a shame. She's never going to be quite the same after she takes you up her little crack. Don't get me wrong, babe, I still love your taste, but it'd be nice to have a fresh peach to come home to when I visit. You sure you wouldn't just want to keep her hanging for a few weeks?”

“Now, Peggy-poo, the girl's earned her reward. Besides, I'm not the only dirty dick in this house. If she's not gettin' it from me, she'll find a way somehow.”

Peg sighed. It was true. This pussy was getting put in its place one way or another. She might as well get to enjoy watching it happen while she was here. Still...

Peg jerked the insensate girl closer, leaving her head hanging off the side of the bed where Pete was and bringing her into a more comfortable range. She lowered her face, breathing in another puff of her clean, unpolluted scent before extending her tongue and running it up the length of the girl's slit. The down. And again. Slowly working it over. Taking her time tasting her dewy lower lips and building towards the moment she prodded just a little bit deeper. Parting her folds and lodging the tip of her tongue inside the girl. Pushing in just a bit further to allow herself to butt her nose up against the girl's joy buzzer, sending a jolt through Roxanne's body, jump starting her brain.

The glassy look in Roxanne's eyes began to dissipate as she registered the unfamiliar feeling of a mouth eating out her pussy. It wasn't what she'd been after all night, but that didn't mean she didn't like it. Her breathing increased in pace as she allowed herself to lay there and bask in the pleasant feeling radiating from crotch. That is, until a shadow was cast across her form.

She hadn't been able to see it before, despite knowing it was there, because of his gut. But from this angle she could see it just fine. Pete's pecker pointed right at her, barely any cleaner from the time spent in his ex-wife's mouth than it had been to start. If anything, it may have been worse, a vile gunk dripping from it where sores had once been. And he was so much smaller than she estimated Max to be. She'd felt him before, an errant touch brushing against his inner thigh at an inopportune time once or twice. Or more. But she didn't refuse him. She wasn't capable of refusing him. Opening her mouth wide and taking him in. Wedging her nose in the crook where his heaving sack met that stunted length. Once more her brain caught fire as the smell of his sex was more pungent here than it had been anywhere else. And she knew. Knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that once she had it inside of her it will have been worth it. That her boyfriend's size was meaningless. That this was a man and what she needed, more than anything, was to feel a man claim her.

As life returned to Roxanne, she returned to actively participating in her debauchment, grabbing Pete's hips, as best she could and bringing her legs around Peg's own head, using the leverage to force the woman deeper into her muff. To prepare her for what was to come. Roxanne polishing that pock-marked shaft and smeg encrusted cockhead with an enthusiasm she'd shown little else in life. Unperturbed by the flavor of dried cum or the way the protrusions of Pete's warty length would occasionally burst and run down her throat.

Minutes peeled away as she serviced Pete and Peg enjoyed her, but before long they were all ready for what she had been working towards this whole night. With an impressively unladylike slurp, Peg gulped down the juices the young bitch had been leaking, pulling away to reveal the fur around the lower part of her face dripping with fluids. Roxanne was turning out to be quite the squirter. Peg used, first, the back of her hand to wipe away most of the excess, her open palm squeegeeing away the rest before she popped a finger into her mouth to have one last taste of pristine pussy.

“You really are a sweetie.”

Roxanne opened her maw, coughing ropes of precum and all kinds of foulness back onto Pete's crotch. She reached down, taking each of his heavy orbs in hand and placing a kiss on them both. She turned her attention to Peg, smiling at her. If her face was a mess before, it was a disaster zone now. Cock gunk stuck between her teeth. Pubic hair on her lips. Her own fur and hair drenched and matted. With just three inches she'd been put through her paces. And she would be again.

“Thank you,” she answered.

“You been a real good girl tonight, haven't ya?” Pete looked down at her imperiously, arms akimbo at his hips. Her eyes turned up to him and never left as she flipped around and rose to her knees, nodding her agreement with his assessment.

Once more the mound of a man climbed back up on the bed, the whole thing creaking under his immense weight. His palm pressed down on Roxanne's back, pushing her face first into the cooling, wet bedding.

“Raise that ass,” he said, his free hand slapping hard against that tiny, taught rear. And, of course, she complied, lifting her backside high. Offering it to him.

Pete stretched his tree-trunk legs to either side of the girl, enclosing her in the space between while she's unable to see just what it is he's up to.

“Haaach, ptto,” Pete expectorated a slimy glob of sputum into the palm of his hand. Peg had already greased the bitch up good and proper, but Pete always enjoyed that personal touch, reaching between her legs and roughly rubbing that disgusting wad of lung butter all over her mound. Giving it its first taste of the tainting that was to come.

Peg slid in behind her ex, reaching around his gut and grabbing hold of his front love handles, giving them a squeeze. “Can't lie, Petey-kins. I've been wanting to see this almost as badly as she's been wanting to get it.” With a strained grunt, Peg hefted his belly high, exposing his prick to the air.

Releasing Roxanne's back, Pete places both of his hands on her hips and drags her back towards himself. For her part, she remains limp and pliable, letting herself be the fuck doll he wanted in that very moment. She was practically folded in half at the waist, legs outstretched in front of herself as her pussy was lowered into place, that minuscule cudgel resting at her entrance.

He pushed her down.

Trying to contain the scream that was trying to force its way from her body, Roxanne bit down on her lip with nearly enough force to draw blood. She felt... amazing! Feeling her labia parted for the first time by a man, a real man. Feeling the way her tightness peeled away the reams of thick foreskin and scraped the gritty cock crud from his head into her walls. The way the warty surface of his shaft was only too happy to pop and burst as it made its way inside of her, almost like Pete was constantly cumming inside of her. Impregnating her with whatever bugs he was carrying. And most of all, the way he was just big enough to be sure and relieve her of her maidenhead forever.

It was the laziest fuck he could manage while still doing the work. Lifting her an inch then dropping her back down. Again. And again. And again. The speed with which he penetrated her making it seem as though the girl was vibrating.

“Y'haaaah!” Roxanne's head turned up, mouth wide as an orgasm crashed against her and added her squirt to the mess that Pete's crotch already was.

\---

Another orgasm wracked Roxanne's body as she held herself up on all fours, Pete's gut resting on her ass while he plowed her pussy into a cunt.

\---

Roxanne tilted her head forward, resting it on her arm, another cum sending a tremor through her body. Bent over the dresser, she managed to get a look at herself in the vanity mirror in front of her. Bedraggled, red-eyed, filthy. With the fat father of her boyfriend's best friend holding her hips in place as he pounded the fuck out of her formerly virgin cock hole. She was a fucking mess and it felt wonderful.

\---

Roxanne rocked her hips, working her midsection to grind herself against the three-inch god rod that had turned her into a woman. She'd never felt better in her life. She'd never felt so fucking sexy.

The bed shifted as Peg added her weight to it sitting next to her ex while the teenage trollop they'd turned out together straddled his hips and screwed herself silly on him. She brought her face right up to the girl's and in no time their lips had met, tongues had entangled, and they were sucking face like long time lovers.

A few minutes more and Pete grabbed the girl by her hips, pulling her down as close as he could and bellowing out his own orgasm.

Pete may have lacked size, but he more than compensated with his load. Copious, and hot, and so very very thick. A sloshing, chowdery churning was audible to all parties in ear shot. Roxanne herself could feel it filling her womb, pumping it just to the edge of distending it before her grip on his shaft loosened, forever losing some of that virginal tightness she'd maintained for so long and that viscous, yellow nut spilled from her.

That wild glint returned to her eye as she was seeded. Forever changed by the events of the night. And claimed as Pete family property. With a laugh all the exhaustion of the night finally caught up with her and she collapsed atop the man who she'd so willingly surrendered her cherry to.

\---

“No. No. Ro-Roxanne, I!”

He hadn't had it in him. Not to resist the urge to watch the video to its conclusion. Not to keep his long, fat cock tucked away/ Not to keep his hands off his erection. And now, despite the tears in his eyes as he watched his girlfriend take Pete Sr.'s cum inside of her, he didn't have the will power not to jerk himself to his own finish. By contrast, Max's climax was rather anti-climactic. A few watery ribbons that would wipe right out without leaving so much as a stain. And while his size was certainly nothing to sneeze at, he came up short where it really counted. He was no man. He was just a pathetic little boy, crying with his dick in his hand.

“G'HAA! HAHAHA! What the hell, little Goof? I figured we'd catch you watchin' our little home video, but here y'are so busy jerkin it to me welcomin' my newest favorite little slut to her new life you didn't even hear her lettin' us in!”

Max practically launched himself into the air hearing that familiar laugh cut through the sound of static left by the completed tape. How hadn't he heard them coming? How hadn't he noticed how long she'd been gone?

He turned, revolted all over again by the sight that he saw. Pete Pete Sr. standing in nothing more than a pair of tattered, worn underpants. To one side of him, wrapped in an arm stood Peg, PJ's mom, Pete's ex wife. She looked just as she had in the video, dressed in the same white negligee, although now it was no longer looking so white. Stained and dingy and clearly not having seen the business end of a washing machine in some time. She raised a hand, her head resting on Pete's shoulder, and gave Max a little finger wave.

Who was in front of Pete, however, was far more important to Max. In a matching nighty with matching stains, Pete's hand on her shoulder, their stood Roxanne, beaming as brightly as she had been and looking every bit the image he'd once dreamed of her as before they'd started dating. Except twisted and perverted. While one hand rested on Pete's hand, the other couldn't stop digging around in her own crotch, keeping herself all hot and bothered, spilling her juices onto. Not like they had been in the video, no. Now they were just as thick and syrupy and clouded as Peg's had been. And that wasn't the only change. Her beautiful pussy now looked so much darker around the edges and the prim perfection of her pretty pink slit was now splayed wide for all who cared to look to see.

“Get out,” Max managed to muster.

“Aw, now don't be like that. We came over to make amends. Set some things straight. Yeah, I turned your girl into a woman, so what? That doesn't have to mean anything.”

Roxanne stepped forward, patting Pete's hand to release his grip. She smiled and Max noticed that all wasn't quite right. Her muzzle glistened and the fur around her face and nose was matted and streaked. She shined with sweat and the bounce had left her hair.

But Max could say nothing.

She stepped right up close to him. Smiled that wan smile he so loved.

“Max, I still love you,” she said. As though to demonstrate just how true those words were she managed to remove her fingers from her sopping fuck ditch long enough to bring them to his face, guiding his eyes to hers. Mesmerizing him in that way she always could. “I still want to date you. To be your girlfriend. Maybe even marry you one day. I just don't _ever_ want to fuck you.”

She said it so sweetly. She made it sound almost reasonable.

“That's okay, isn't it? You still love me. And it's not like we were fucking to begin w **wwwoouuuuurrp!** ”

Her last sentence was cut off with the most heinous belch he'd ever been privy to. Blasting his face with ropes of spit as well as all kinds of mess he didn't even want to think about. Behind her, Pete slapped his knee and burst into laughter.

“Sorry about that, kiddo! Your girlfriend got a little thirsty while we were waitin' for you to finish up in here, so I gave her a nice top off!.”

Max's eyes had narrowed to near pupils, his mind practically melting from the foulness on Roxanne's breath. The filth she'd expectorated all over him. The shame of being just that close to forgiving her.

The boy set his jaw, a grimace crossing his face as he raised his hand to shout them out. But just as he began to speak the words, that's when it happened. When she pressed her body close to him. When her lips met his. When her free hand reached down to touch his shaft.

“Mm! Mm-mmm... Hhhh.”

It smelled horrible. It tasted worst. Everything about this was a nightmare for him. Except... it was still Roxanne whose cock, slathered tongue now swirled around his. Whose cum scented breath now filled his lungs. Whose palm now gently glanced against his..

“Mmn!”

“Ohh,” she sighed with a humored lilt to it. “Such a quick shot you are, Max. It really is a good thing I never let this silly tool of yours anywhere near my cunt, now isn't it?”

Her laughter was joined by his other “guests,” as they all realized Max had spilled another pathetic load across the front of Roxanne's gown.

“Such a lucky boy,” Peg chimed in. “You got a nice little handjob from your girlfriend. How adorable.”

“Now, there's gonna be a few changes around here, little Goof. But if you're good, I could see my way ta lettin' you and Roxanne here have your little teenage romance. Now, whaddaya say.”

Max opened his mouth and raised a finger to object. But he simply couldn't. He had nothing to say. Nothing to argue. As angry as he was at Roxanne, he still loved her. Still needed her. And nothing Pete could do would help him break that spell.

“Yes, Mr. P.”

A grin, broad and dark crossed Pete's face as he reached for the door to close it behind him. “That's right,” he said. “Now you just sit right there, like a good kid, and let me show you how this is done.”

***** _**Ka-Chunk** _ *****


End file.
